Bill & Fleur's Excellent Honeymoon
by Story Please
Summary: Everyone thinks that Fleur is too good for scarred, ugly Bill, or that Bill is too good for an airheaded beauty like Fleur, who might just cheat on him. Little do they know that both of them have secrets and their own inner demons that never seem to rest unless they are at each other's side. For what is love, but the feeling that one has finally come home?
1. Chapter 1

I'm writing this for my friend Moka, who is a Chaser on Pride of Portree's Quidditch team! Hi, Moka, thanks for the idea! :)

In her own words, here's the basic prompt: _I'd totally like you to do a one-shot with the pairing Fleur/Bill, where they get a lot of disrespect and people all accuse Bill of only being married to Fleur because of her looks and veela attributes, and others think Fleur being a Veela automatically means she will sleep with any man and never say no, and so on. I want to see prejudice they face as a couple and how they have to prove their love to everyone, and even some of their friends and family doubt how pure their love is, and if it isn't the Veela charm creating the love._

* * *

**Chapter 1: Great Expectations**

"Eeeets not faaaair!" Ginny said with an exaggeratedly fake French accent, standing on a kitchen stool with a towel wrapped around her neck like a cape.

Her mother snorted with laughter.

"Now, now, that's really just..terrible!" Molly Weasley said, though her voice was far from stern as she tried to hide a smile, "We shouldn't make fun of..._Bill_!"

"Mum! Were you even paying attention? You know that was my best impression of F-" Ginny cut off, her face going pale as she turned and found the root of her mother's strained expression.

Bill stood in the doorway, the expression darkening his face looking eerily similar to Molly's famous heart-stopping scowl.

"You think that I don't see you making fun of her," he said softly, a small ragged hitch in the back of his throat, "But I _do_. Ginny, I know you're still young, which is hardly an excuse, but there's none for you, Mum."

Molly's face flickered for a moment, and he realized that she was staring at the cursed scars that ran across his face. There it was again.

_Guilt. _

_Sadness. _

_Regret. _

_Righteous but futile anger._

He was used to the stares and whispers by now. After all, it had been several years from the terrible night that Fenrir Greyback had torn his world in two. Bill Weasley had always been a handsome, likeable bloke, but it had never been something he thought about much. It was only when he started noticing people shrinking instinctively away from him, when he saw that worried flicker in others eyes, realizing that the only frame of reference for werewolves was the murderous child-snatching Greyback. At least the goblins did not mind. After all, they thought of wand users as only slightly less annoying than mountain trolls. And so, Bill had ample opportunity to become well-practiced at pretending that he couldn't hear the rude words about his appearance from many of the patrons at Gringotts. He found it quite ironic that the very witches and wizards who prided themselves on being superior to muggles and humanoid magical creatures often spent so much time behaving in such a low manner, but this was not the first hypocrisy that he'd noticed, and he was certain it would not be the last.

The cursed scars pained him most when the moon waxed in the sky, throbbing painfully as though they'd been freshly reopened. He was immensely grateful that Fleur had plenty of experience serving dishes of raw meat that were specially prepared so that he felt that he was eating haute cuisine instead of tearing into flesh like an animal as the wounds throbbed and ached. She prepared charmed heating packs that never cooled to place against the wounds, which helped immensely, and it was only when he saw her preparing them for herself that he realized why she knew how to do such a thing in the first place. Having never quite understood the monthly pain that women went through at the whims of biology upon the lunar cycle, Bill found himself developing fresh appreciation for those who could function even with a natural monthly curse that sapped their strength.

"I still cannot believe, after everything we've been through, that you still dislike my wife," Bill said darkly, his eyes hardening even as both Molly and Ginny wore remorseful looks in response.

"It's just…" Ginny said uncertainly, "Now that the war is over and things are getting better...what if she...what if she realizes that she made a mistake?"

"What sort of _mistake_ are you referring to?" Bill replied, trying to control the anger in his voice.

Ginny just stared at the floor and refused to answer, even though Bill could already tell what she would have said, had she the courage to finish her thoughts.

He and Ginny weren't really close, but he knew that she still loved her brother and was as fiercely protective about him as she was about them all. But they rarely talked, so he supposed that to her, Bill Weasley was this _idea-_ a cool older brother who did cool things. By the time she was out of diapers, he had already begun to shave and go on dates. And he knew that after..._well_...after Fred...it seemed as though the Weasley women had gotten far more protective of their own after losing one of their number in the final battle against Voldemort at Hogwarts. Ginny had taken it especially hard. It had strained her thick-as-thieves relationship with George, and Ron had stepped in, taking their one-eared brother on as a business partner. Percy had moved into a flat in London with his fiance and Charlie was still off taming dragons and sending slightly scorched postcards every so often. For the first time since the Burrow was first inhabited, the happy chaos in the Weasley home had dwindled to nearly nothing, and the silence seemed to nearly roar in its absence.

And Bill would not have even visited the Burrow in the first place, especially not on the eve of his big honeymoon trip, but he had realized at the last minute that he'd left his charmed rucksack in the attic, and he would need it to pack his things.

"Fleur and I are looking forward to our belated honeymoon abroad. After all, we were rudely interrupted at our wedding and had to go into hiding immediately. I will be sure to send you a postcard," he said quickly but softly as he turned to go out through the kitchen door, "I just wish that you could be happy for me, at least. Even if you have to fake it. We love each other and that isn't going to change. If you want to actually _see_ me, you may consider changing your behavior so that I come by more often than simply to pick up something I need. Goodbye, then. I'll be sure to send a postcard."

Molly's eyes were filled with tears as she looked up at her eldest son. Even now, under the scarred, torn face and the bright blue eyes that stared balefully at her, she could remember the baby that he'd been in her arms- so tiny, so beautiful, so perfect, so _hers_.

She sighed and rubbed her soapy hands on her apron.

"We are both very sorry that you saw that. Bill, I am glad that you are happy," she said finally, Ginny nodding silently next to her mother in agreement, "And while Fleur and I.._well_..we have our differences, we both agree that we love you more than anything in the world."

Bill's mouth quirked up on one side as his mother rushed over to hug him. He couldn't help it. She was so short that he could probably rest his chin on the top of her head and still need to bend down a bit to do so.

"I love you too, Mum," he said as she crushed the life out of him with her embrace.

"You be safe, you _hear_? No big risks or strange dark forests!" Molly replied, squeezing harder, "I look forward to that postcard."

They waved cheerily as Bill strode to the end of the driveway and Apparated away.

Molly and Ginny looked at each other. Their collective sigh of relief afterwards was so loud that the ghoul in the attic stuck its bloated nose out of the attic window and shook a gooey plasma-covered fist at them for disturbing what had been a very restful nap.

* * *

At the same moment, Fleur Weasley was also contending with her fair share of pointed fingers and not-so-subtle whispers about her body. She was picking up some last minute groceries before they picked up their portkey to the Parisian countryside, where they'd be staying in a quaint cottage and had a full itinerary of day trips and excursions to enjoy their time abroad. Fleur herself had grown up in a small town in the South of France, and had only visited Paris a handful of times during the summer. Going without her family was going to be a big change and she was more than a little nervous about it.

"Hey there, cutie! Fancy a kiss?" warbled a man with a red nose who stank of cigarettes and cheap booze.

Fleur pointedly ignored him with a sniff.

He began to swear and threaten her after that, following her until the crowd got thick enough to make it difficult to keep up.

Fleur ignored him even more pointedly with her nose in the air, walking faster and faster until she'd left him far behind, and then she allowed herself to tremble, a little with fear, but mostly with rage, her hand tucked into her robes and grasping tightly around her wand.

_How dare he think that I am a piece of meat for sale?_

She often thought that, had she been able to turn off the alluring otherworldly glow that she'd inherited from her Veela heritage, she would do so in a heartbeat. It had been horrible enough hitting various pubertal milestones while at school and away from her mother and sister, but the moment she began to develop breasts and hips, so too did the hypnotic effect she seemed to have on others. It was like a passive glow that constantly emanated from her body, and her classmates had been either jealous or frightened of it. The truth was that most of the time, she hated it. She couldn't go anywhere without being stared at. And regardless of whether or not it was because she was attractive instead of repulsive, it was honestly an uncomfortable experience. Especially since the Veela's power didn't _actually_ make people _like_ her. It just made people _lust_ after her, _want_ her.

_Possess_ her.

Like an object to keep in a cage and show off to guests.

The truth of the Veela was far darker than anyone knew, but Fleur had been told many a time by her grandmother, and she fluctuated between feeling darkly proud and disgusted. Veela drew people to chase them by magically appealing to and enhancing their lust. Then they'd run into the forest, allowing the hapless human to chase them until they were far enough away from potential help. And that was when the beauty turned into a beast and devoured the would-be suitor, leaving only the bloody stumps of hands and feet behind.

Of course, this did not stop mortal men from desiring to possess a Veela, as though it said anything more than what barbaric lengths they would stoop to in order to obtain one.

The only way to bed a Veela was to bind the wrists and ankles and feed the creature only seawater and vegetables for a week and a half, until her glow weakened and she appeared nearly mortal. This would make a Veela docile and tame, unable to fight. For the duration of the relationship, the Veela would be deprived any animal flesh, lest she regain her terrifying powers and eat her husband, leaving the feet and hands on the front doorstep along with abandoned children, who would often be left to fend for themselves.

But Bill...he'd been the first person outside of her immediate family who was _immune_ to her charms. At first, she'd thought it was a fluke. Maybe he just didn't like women in _that_ sort of way, after all, for Fleur had met a number of men of that particular persuasion. But then she'd seen the way he looked at some of the particularly attractive female clients at the bank and she found herself _aching_ for him to look at _her_ that way.

Fleur was not used to asking out potential suitors. Most of the time, they came to her, one way or another. They couldn't help it, after all. But Bill was anything but ordinary. It had taken more than a week for her to work up the nerve to talk to him and ask him to coffee, and he'd had to reschedule twice due to mix-ups at the bank that forced him to stay late.

By that time their date finally arrived, she found herself practically drooling when she saw him, though luckily for her, she hadn't inherited the Veela's serrated beak and taste for human flesh with her unearthly glow and silvery perfect hair.

Of course, for a week out of each month, she desired her meat quite rare indeed. She would never tell anyone this, of course, not until after Bill had been in recovery and she finally revealed tearfully that she too knew more about fearing one's inner monsters than anyone would ever suspect.

He'd merely squeezed her hand weakly and looked at her in that way that struck her heart, the way that say _I see the real you and love you all the more_, and rasped, "Well, I guess that's another thing we've got in common, then."

Fleur knew then that she would either live at his side for life, bear his children, journey with him from the ends of the earth to around the block or die of a broken heart without him.

And it infuriated her to no end that no one believed her.

But all of that anger was as nothing next to the nearly physical waves of devotion she felt when she was with her husband.

Sometimes, Fleur thought that it was quite a good thing for everyone else that she had Bill to keep her in check. Because sometimes, after a day of being stared at and followed and called nasty names and propositioned for disgusting carnal acts, she wanted to tell them the _truth_. If someone asked her if she was partially Veela, if that meant she'd have _anyone_ once, it made her want to reply that yes, Veela did like to have anyone _once_, except for the hands and feet of course, because those were far too gamey.

She wanted to see the widened whites of their eyes as they recoiled in fear and disgust, terrified of the monster that lurked behind the goddess.

And a part of herself understood why the Veela had developed such a taste for human flesh.

After all, it was often the best part about so many human beings.

She checked her watch and swore.

It was a Christmas gift from her father-in-law, who saw the tiny silver muggle device in a shop and told her that he knew it would suit her perfectly.

"It's waterproof to over a hundred feet," Arthur Weasley had said proudly with a wink, beaming as she put it on her wrist, "Just in case you find yourself taking any other underwater excursions!"

By that time, Fleur had realized where Bill had inherited his seemingly unique ability to remain unaffected by the Veela's allure, which is why she'd found herself wanting to spend more time with him during family gatherings, even though he often went on at length about muggle devices that she was thoroughly unfamiliar with. She didn't understand her mother-in-law's frightening amount of jealousy, as anyone could see that Arthur Weasley only had eyes for his wife. Years of enduring the jealous behavior and rudeness of women who assumed that her beauty made her think she was better than they were, Fleur could tell that Molly Weasley was not used to being desirable, and she suspected that this made the matriarch of the Weasley clan deeply insecure about her worth as a woman. But to Fleur, who had been catcalled so many times that she knew the exact look a man would get on his face before saying something disgustingly rude, the thought that Molly had found her first and only love on the first try and could go out in public without being harangued everywhere she went was unbelievably alluring.

In a way, they were both jealous of each other, though for near opposite reasons.

_Merde, I am very nearly late!_

Fleur rushed into the last shop and paid the clerk hurriedly before Apparating to Shell Cottage with a loud _crack_, her heart pounding in her chest as it realized that soon she would be by the side of the man she loved the most in the entire world.

* * *

_Author's Note: Ok, I lied, this is not going to be a one-shot. But I wanted to set up the honeymoon so that you can see the difference between how Bill and Fleur feel about each other, and how others perceive their relationship. I really like this pairing, so I want to add another chapter where they actually go on their honeymoon and have adventures so you can see how perfectly matched they really are (and how they deal with problems like forgetting to pack underwear and dark forests and sinister forces because that's just how they roll)._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Bravery and Underpants

The Portkey brought the two honeymooners to a small, quaint, whitewashed cottage, which came complete with a charmed thatch roof (which kept the rot and the pests out). It would not do to be throttled by a mouse on the first night, after all. Fleur ran ahead and took in the view, stretching her arms out as though she were flying, while Bill stood behind her and watched how radiant she looked in the late afternoon light.

For the first time since the war was over, the war truly felt _over_. A great weight shifted off of BIll Weasley's shoulders as he watched his wife execute cartwheels in the meadow that lay only a few short paces from the cottage, the sound of bees humming as they gathered nectar from the wide assortment of wildflowers giving Bill an almost a sleepy feeling.

He stretched up to his full height (he'd gotten the height from his mother's side of the family, and Molly agreed that he was almost the spitting image of her twin brothers who had sacrificed themselves in the fight against Voldemort), and yawned loudly.

"Oh, come on, Bill!" Fleur laughed, though she still said his name more like 'Beel,' putting the wrong inflection on his name. She was very serious about sounding more conventionally British and avoiding the irritating lectures she often got from the Diagon Alley merchants about being difficult to understand while her mother-in-law stood nearby with a smug expression on her face. During the War, Fleur had practiced speaking better English for many long hours in Shell Cottage as there was often not much else to do.

"_Your_ English is, how you say, most _inflexible_!" Fleur had grumbled, tossing her language book to the floor. It slid across the varnished wooden surface and made a loud _thwack_ as it hit the base of the bookshelf across the room.

Bill had merely given her a sympathetic expression but said nothing and gave her some space. She always worked through her frustration best when no one made the mistake of offering useless platitudes.

Ten minutes later, he'd heard her rise from her chair, grumbling swear words under her breath in French as she went to fetch the discarded book.

And, bit by bit, she'd gotten better. Fleur never gave up, after all. She would fight to her dying breath if it meant she would finally achieve her goals. And it was then that Bill finally realized exactly _why_ the Goblet had chosen Fleur as a Champion all those years ago.

"Bill? Beeeeeell? Why are you standing there like zee fish with mouth agape?" Fleur asked playfully, her hands on her hips.

"It's nothing. Can't I simply enjoy watching my amazing wife be amazing?" Bill said with a smile.

He'd never tell her how adorable he thought it sounded, not if he didn't want his bits hexed off.

For Fleur may have been a kind and talented young witch, but she also had a temper and the formidable hexing skills to match.

Fleur ran to him, then, and threw her arms around his waist, her hair practically glowing as she embraced him.

And for that moment, everything was perfect.

"Help! Help! Monster! Monster!"

A voice cried out in the distance and both Bill and Fleur had already drawn their wands. Fleur opened the door to the cottage and they tossed their bags inside before warding the building quickly and setting off in the direction of the voice.

As they crested the hill, they saw a small Wizarding village down a short distance from their honeymoon cottage. A dirt path wound down through the meadow into the village, and they could see a thin, dark thread of smoke escaping into the sky.

It wasn't very far, and as though to spur them onward, a terrified wail pierced the silence.

They looked at each other silently and nodded to one another, both taking off at a sprint towards the sound.

The roof of a small storage shed was on fire, flames licking the thatched roof.

"MY BABY!" screamed a woman, who had been restrained by two teenaged boys, "She's still in there! NO! I MUST GO TO HER!"

Fleur pointed her wand at the roof and a jet of water poured from the tip of her wand, but the flames seemed to think this was humorous, licking through the jets of water with a cackling hiss.

"What the devil?" Bill said, frowning.

Fleur noticed as well, and she changed tactics. She turned her wand upon herself and covered her entire body with a Bubble Charm. This created a cushioning wall between her and any outside influence. Bill was impressed. The last time he'd seen her use this particular charm, she'd only been able to cover her head. Now it covered her from head to toe like an invisible diver's suit.

Bill blasted the door off of the structure, pulling it away so that Fleur could sprint inside, blasting cooling jets of air from his wand, which merely pushed the flames back, but at least it gave Fleur the ability to get inside.

Moments later, she'd reappeared with a little soot-covered bundle.

"She ees ok, I theenk," Fleur said breathlessly as she handed the little squirming baby over to her mother.

The woman collapsed with relief, her face wet with tears.

"Oh, _merci beaucoup_! Thank you!" she cried, kissing her squirming baby all over her face until the infant began to cry.

Bill, meanwhile, had placed a containment spell around the structure, which kept the flames from spreading.

"It's Fiendfyre, isn't it?" Fleur said quietly, as Bill held the spell until the flames finally burnt themselves out.

"But who would use such a thing?" Bill replied irritably, "Everyone knows that Fiendfyre is impossible to control. If we hadn't been here, it could have engulfed half of the countryside before the proper authorities could be dispatched."

Fleur turned and spoke in French to the woman and her teenaged sons. From the expressions on their faces, it seemed obvious to Bill that they had no idea how the fire had started, and Fleur confirmed this fact moments later. To be sure, Fleur cast _Priori Incantatem_ on their wands, but they found nothing out of the ordinary.

The woman insisted on giving them both a fresh baguette that the family had been saving for their own supper, and they took it without too much protest, eating pieces as they walked back up the hill together their cottage.

"Well, that was odd," Bill said, "I suppose I ought not to send back a postcard detailing this particular part of our honeymoon. Mum would blow a gasket, I think."

"There is something else that I doubt your mother would want to know about," Fleur said suggestively, giving him a smouldering sidelong glance, "But I promise that zis particular _something_ will be far more enjoyable."

Bill swallowed his mouthful of bread loudly and felt his face go scarlet. He didn't blush often, but there was something about _how_ Fleur said such things that made his mind go wild with speculation.

And the reality that followed very rarely disappointed.

* * *

The next morning, after sleeping in quite longer than they had intended (for their night had, indeed been full of a number of diversions that did not fail to satisfy), they went down into the town for a late morning coffee and to buy a couple of essentials that had been left behind at Shell Cottage.

Much to Bill's chagrin, he'd found that he had forgotten to pack more than one set of underpants, and was sorely in need of at least a couple others to last him through the trip. He did not fancy having to do laundry each night or wear soggy underpants, _especially_ not on his honeymoon. Fleur had forgotten her brush, which had been disastrous as far as she was concerned. Her silvery hair whirled around her like a river with conflicting currents and there was something wildly beautiful (albeit unintentional) about her morning appearance.

Still, Bill knew better than to mention this, as Fleur was blushing madly, embarrassed at her appearance. She'd pulled a beanie over her head to try and hide the whorls of hair, but it only pushed them down over her shoulders in an unruly silver cascade.

"Don't worry," Bill said softly, as they walked into town hand in hand, "They'll be too busy looking at my scars to stare at you."

Fleur blushed more deeply.

"You should not say zings like zat!" she replied, "It is not your fault-"

"It doesn't matter," Bill said, "I'm used to it."

"Hmph!" Fleur sniffed, "If I see one person treat you poorly zen I shall give zem a piece of my mind!"

"Woe to anyone who crosses Fleur Weasley," Bill said with a smile.

Fleur grinned back, "_N__aturellement_."

* * *

"These aren't underpants!" Bill complained, "They're burlap sacks with leg holes!"

Fleur spoke to the man at the counter, who nodded, bringing out a large wooden rectangle that had been wrapped round many times with a soft-looking white cloth.

"Now you see here-" Bill started, before Fleur glanced back at him warningly.

She advised the shopkeeper to cut a certain length of the fabric, which was wrapped in paper and tied with string. She paid quickly for it and handed it to Bill.

"Your mother is not the only Weasley who can sew," she said simply, smirking at Bill's expression as he snapped to attention, "I shall be happy to make you more underthings. Zat way you shall always know my fingers have run over every inch of fabric placed so softly against your skin."

She drew closer to him, sliding her index finger down his nose and kissing him lightly on the lips. Bill felt as though he was about to melt into a puddle and silently cursed the fact that they'd still have to walk all the way back to the cottage before they could toss aside their robes once more.

In fact, he was so distracted by Fleur's wide eyes that he didn't see the giant black bird bearing down on him until it was too late.

"Crawwww!" chortled the giant raven, as it snatched the package from his arms.

Fleur shouted something unrepeatable in polite company at the massive creature, pulling out her wand, but in only a few flaps, the bird had crested the tree line and disappeared into the dark forest beyond.

Fleur's face was scarlet with rage. A bright light appeared at the tip of her wand and she stormed into the trees so quickly that Bill was still standing there in shock when he realized that he should follow her.

"_Bloody_ birds," he muttered, jogging towards the treeline, "_Bloody_ dark _bloody_ forests. Fleur? You don't have to do this! It's fine! I'll just make do with the burlap sacks!"

But there was no answer.

And when Bill finally stumbled into a shadowy clearing in the forest, he realized that he didn't know which way led back to the village.

And Fleur was nowhere to be seen.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Dark Forests, Dark Plots, etcetera**

How dare that damned creature take the finely woven Elven Silk cloth that she'd paid good silver for?! Fleur was seeing red, her vision hyperfocused on the jet black tail feathers of the retreating bird.

The creature was huge, too huge to be a wild raven, though she knew they could grow quite big at full size. As though it could read her thoughts, she heard it call out in a spluttering coughing laugh that goaded her onward.

_Can't catch me, hee hee hee._

It didn't need to speak words to voice its intent.

A giant outcropping of rock seemed to appear from nowhere, and Fleur climbed it nimbly, barely touching the rock as she propelled herself upward, wand in hand. The bushes were still too thick for her to be able to get at the bird, though she heard its scaly legs scratching against the outcropping of rock above her.

She leapt up, her teeth bared. Though she didn't have the scales and hooked, serrated beak of the full-blooded Veela, she knew she looked almost feral.

"Geeve Mee. Back. Zee. Package!" she snarled darkly.

There was no one there.

"_Merde_," Fleur muttered, stroking back her wild silver hair and realizing that her beanie had fallen off at some point during the chase.

She caught her breath and looked out at the impressive view below her. She was actually up quite high indeed, and something inside of her swelled with delight. It reminded her of how much she delighted in climbing up to the Astronomy Tower at Hogwarts when she'd attended the school during the Triwizard Tournament. Her friends had been terrified, for Beauxbatons did not have more than three floors and was set up like a grand manor house instead of a castle. Fleur had flown often on the back of wild winged horses during her family's summers in Greece and she was no slouch on a broom, but there was something about pulling herself up to a great height with her own power that intoxicated her with a sense of power and pride.

There was something in the clearing on the other side.

_Could it be?_

Her heart quickened its pace when she realized that her package was lying there without that damned bird anywhere in sight. It had been dropped on the grassy knoll near the base of the rock pile. She gracefully raced down towards it, her feet and hands barely touching the stone as she descended.

Looking around, she thought she heard the flapping of great wings and with a quick look to both sides, she lunged over the package, and grabbed it tightly in her arms. The paper was a bit rumpled and the twine had gotten a little damp from having been dumped on somewhat dewy grass (as the sun only partially penetrated the thick canopy of trees above), but the cloth inside was still untouched.

Fleur sighed with relief and stood, turning to the rock pile to start her way back the way she'd come but then she paused. Something didn't feel right. She looked around, but couldn't detect anything with her eyes or her keen sense of smell.

She took a cautious step forward, reaching for her wand.

A sharp pain stabbed her between the shoulder blades and she fell into darkness.

* * *

Bill stumbled into a low hanging branch and swore as the scratchy leaves scraped across his face.

"Just what I need. _More_ scars!" he groused loudly, waving his hands to push them out of the way and spitting when they just rebounded and smacked him in the mouth, leaving him with the taste of leaves in his mouth.

Spitting and coughing, he crashed through the dark forest blindly calling out Fleur's name.

If he'd been thinking rationally, he probably would have realized that this was a bad idea, dark forests being full of unknown creatures and all. But all he could think about was that fierce look in Fleur's face and how her hair seemed to fly out around her face as though it had an energy all its own and how her eyes had flashed as though announcing that she'd follow the source of her fury to the ends of the earth just to destroy it.

"Fleur? Where are you? Fleur! Come back!" he called, his voice ragged from shouting and running.

A sharp, burning pain tore up his belly and he realized the telltale signs of having gotten a stitch in his side for all his troubles. He leaned against a tree and took deep breaths, massaging the painful area with his free hand as though it would speed up the recovery process.

His heart had finally quieted down and no longer beat like thunder in his ears when he heard the sound of rough, avian laughter coming from the other side of a large piled section of rock that jutted out of the trees like a tiny mountain.

He pressed his back against the rock and began to slide along it towards the source of the sound.

"It's _perfect_, isn't it, Precious?" said an unknown voice with a strange, almost flat accent.

Bill's eyes widened with surprise.

_American_?

A strange whooshing, clicking noise came from the same direction and a woman's voice replied.

"I don't see what's so great about 'er anyway. To go through all this trouble..," the voice said disdainfully.

"Now now, Tali, is that jealousy I hear?" the first voice replied bemusedly, "Don't worry, my pet. You'll always be the crown jewel in my collection."

"Whatevs, Boss," Tali replied, "One stupid shack was enough. I'm just glad I didn't have to set the whole town on fire to get them to show. Too much work if you ask me."

"Ah, Tali, you really _are_ the epitome of work ethic," the first voice replied with a snort, "Now, then, help me bind her wrists and ankles."

Bill stiffened. Fleur had told him about what mortal men did to Veela that they wanted...to..._no_…_.NO!_

Pulling his wand out, he forced himself to take deep breaths to calm his mind and Disillusioned himself. Inching more quickly around the large formation, he finally got a glimpse of the speakers. A man wearing an impeccable suit that looked as though it had been sewn onto his body stood with his back to Bill, while a bored looking woman with dark brown skin who looked as though she were wearing a cape of obsidian feathers and horns spiraling up and backwards from either temple on her head. He noticed too that her legs were still scaly and taloned like the raven that had…_oh_...she _was_ the raven. A silver band encircled her neck, and he knew at once that it was not mere jewelry.

It was a collar. A symbol of servitude.

He could only see one of Fleur's shoes from his vantage point, but it looked as though she was laying unconscious on the forest floor.

Damn them. This was supposed to be their _honeymoon_! The world was supposed to be at _peace_!

Bill was angry, but he knew he had to be smart. The first thing would be to get Fleur to wake up. Two against one would be a lot more difficult than two against two, after all. He could try to use Side-Along Apparition, but with Fleur unconscious, the possibility of Splinching was much higher than he would like. Neither of the strangers seemed to have wands drawn, but that didn't mean anything.

And the Fiendfyre had come from _somewhere_.

Thinking quickly, Bill thought of a spell that he might be able to use. As an employee of Gringotts, Bill didn't spend a lot of time using offensive spells, though he had helped work on a number of security measures in the vaults deep below the main floor. What came to mind first was the clever combination of _Gemino _and _Flagrante _curses that kept unauthorized personnel from stealing items that did not belong to them.

Keeping his breath measured, he pointed his wand as best he could through the trees at Fleur's prone body.

"_Flagrante_," he whispered forcefully.

"Ow! She _burned_ me!" Tali yelped, hopping backwards like a bird and waving her hand as she dropped the cord that she'd been trying to wrap around Fleur's wrists.

"Don't be ridiculous, Ta-_ow_!" the man reached down and pulled his hand away, "The books never said anything about this particular Veela ability. Intriguing."

He pulled something that looked a bit like a pistol with a number of chambers inlaid with various colored gems and pointed it at Fleur. A jet of golden light shot from the device and Fleur's body slowly levitated into the air.

"We'll have to take her back to the cave to do any further experimentation," the man said with a shrug.

"_We_? I don't think so!" Tali replied, crossing her arms, "Folks like me don't do dank, dark and underground. Let me know if you need me for something that isn't subterranean!"

"Tali, you know it pains me to do this…" the man replied wearily, twisting the chamber and pointing the device at her neck.

Her eyes went wide, "No! I didn't-I-AGGHGHHHHHHH!"

She clawed at the silver cuff as she screamed and the smell of burning skin filled the air, making Bill feel nauseous.

After long seconds that felt like eternities unto themselves, the man slid the device into a holster on his hip and Tali collapsed to the ground with a grunt.

"I take it that I do not need to resort to such _unpleasant_ corrective actions any longer?" the man said mildly, as though he was asking for her opinion on a wallpaper pattern.

Tali merely nodded slightly, gasping in pain as she did so and dragged herself to her feet with great effort.

This man wasn't just any wizard. He was powerful and he was dangerous.

Bill waited for them to leave the clearing and watched them disappear into a hidden crevice in the giant stone tower that would have been nearly impossible to find if he hadn't watched them enter. They would not be able to use a PortKey or other conventional means of wizarding travel until they broke the curse. He'd bought them some time, but was not sure how long it would be. He made a mental note of the cave's location and cast several useful Locator Spells that pinpointed exactly where he was located on the planet (these spells were used in Gringotts to keep track of items no matter where they were on the planet, but it was an extremely expensive service reserved for the rarest of items and the richest of clients). With this information in hand, he sent his Golden Eagle Patronus to the only other person in France that he knew could help him with his problem.

_Gabrielle_.

Because if there was one thing scarier than a part-Veela witch when she was angry, it would have to be a part-Veela witch whose sister was in danger.

He only hoped that she would arrive in time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: You Gotta Fight...for your right….TO HONEYMOON!**

It wasn't yet full dark by the time Gabrielle materialized near the copse of trees where Bill was hiding with a sweeping noise like the sound of waves breaking on a beach. Momentarily amazed at how similar Fleur's sister looked with her glowing silver hair (which was brushed silky smooth and reached the back of her knees), Bill finally gave Gabrielle a terse smile and waved uncertainly.

"_Where_?!" Gabrielle hissed fiercely, fire burning in her icy eyes.

Though she was slightly taller than Fleur, Gabrielle was still very willowy and thin with narrow hips and somewhat knobby knees. At that moment, though, Bill was very certain that given the choice between fighting Gabrielle and a mountain troll, he'd choose the troll in a heartbeat.

"There are two of them. I would never forgive myself if I ran in there without back-up and got both Fleur and myself killed with my recklessness," Bill said, his tone leaving many things unspoken about that Final Battle at Hogwarts and the heartbreaking loss of Fred.

Gabrielle nodded and her expression softened a little. She crouched down to look out towards the cave opening before them. A faint light emanated from the crack in the rock that would have been difficult to notice had they not known where to look.

"I've heard them swearing on and off for the past couple of hours," Bill said somewhat smugly, "My _Flagrante_ curse is very strong. Only a certified curse-breaker could break it. They can't Portkey or Apparate out of here if they can't touch her without being burned. What I'm more worried about is the fact that they seem to be keeping her unconscious with some unknown device."

"We shall need to...um...to make Fleur...how you zay..._awake_?"

"_P__récisément_," Bill replied, grinning a little when Gabrielle gave him an amused look, "Hey, I've been practicing a little French, though I know I still sound like _un idiot."_

"Zen Bill, what eez ze plan?" Gabrielle asked, snorting a little at Bill's quip.

"How's your _Total Body Bind_?" Bill asked, his face serious.

"_Bon_," Gabrielle repled, pulling her wand out from the leather holster on her arm in one fluid movement and setting her jaw.

Bill Disillusioned himself again and Gabrielle followed his lead until they both reached the treeline and stepped out into the small clearing, their bodies refracting light so that the only indication that they were there was in the rippling motion in the air as they moved. They crept together as silently as they could towards the cave and as they approached, they could hear voices.

"-don't need to-"

"Ah, Tali, but I never give up once I've got my mark."

"Whatever you say, _Boss_."

"Ahh, a nice nap and a meal are just what I needed to pool my power so I can work on breaking this blasted spell. Who knew that Veela could cast spells of their own? I didn't even realize that they were allowed wands in Europe! She won't need it, though, not where she's going. This has honestly been one of my most difficult conquests!"

"What about _me_?" Tali sounded mildly offended.

"Well, to be fair, I _obtained_ you when you were barely a fledgling, so though you gave me quite a lot of trouble in your own way, this is a _different_ sort of _challenge_."

Bill felt his jaw tighten as he heard the lust in the other man's face and suppressed the urge to run in shouting "_THAT'S MY WIFE YOU MONSTER!"_

That would be more of a Ron sort of thing to do, anyway.

He saw Gabrielle's shimmering form move to the other side of the opening.

_Wait for it. Wait for it._

_Wait_.

"I'm going back into the tent to do some reading. Tali, do watch our _guest_."

The man's voice retreated, along with the threat of his strange device.

They heard Tali snort derisively.

"Sure, whatever you say, _Boss_. _Richie-rich cretin_," she muttered, the tone of her voice sounding both bored and irritated.

Bill knew that tone. His goblin employers were quite fond of it indeed, especially when dealing with some of their more entitled Pure-blooded customers.

They both moved into the cave silently, both sliding with their backs against the stone walls on either side of the passageway. At the end of the narrow stone hall, they could see that the cave opened up into a gigantic room that had been carved from what looked like an underground river. They could see Fleur lying on a cot of some sort, a pendulum hanging over her with some kind of phial attached to a chain that swung back and forth over her body without touching it. Tali sat on a flat rock near Fleur's feet leafing through some American muggle magazine with muggle movie stars and sensationalist headlines on the front. An old canvas tent stood a ways away in the surprisingly large cavern near the far wall where a small bubbling spring of crystal clear water broke through the rock. Torches placed around in the vast area made everything look as though it was flickering with the flames as they spat and smoked in the dampness of the subterranean world around them.

"Now!" Bill hissed.

"_Voix d'arrêt_!" Gabrielle whispered fiercely, and a jet of blue light shot from her wand, hitting a very surprised-looking Tali in the throat. She grabbed at her face, obviously trying to scream, though no sound was coming out. Her clawed feet scraped wildly against the rock as she struggled to cry out in vain.

"Nice!" Bill whispered, holding his wand out as he watched the tent for movement.

"_Corporelle totale rigide!"_ Gabrielle said determinedly, and Bill was reminded that to cast a truly brilliant spell, one must _mean_ it.

Gabrielle _meant_ it.

Once again, as he looked at the fierce determination on Fleur's little sister's face, he was thankful that her wand was not directed at him.

Tali went utterly rigid, her body looking almost as though it were comically at attention on the floor of the cave, save for the hands that still grasped at her throat and the wide, wild expression in her eyes.

A slight noise like the flapping of a flag made Bill turn back to look at the tent and he thought that he saw the door flap moving back and forth ever so slightly, but the flickering torches made it difficult to know if the movement was just his imagination. He stared for a long moment, but heard nothing else.

They would need to move fast.

"Let's go," Bill said, his Disillusionment spell beginning to dissipate.

He ran over to Fleur and bent down as Gabrielle's Disillusioned form followed him like a shadow, her wand pointing towards the tent as he knelt down like a prince come to kiss the sleeping Beauty.

"_Finite Incantatem_," he whispered, canceling the burning spell around Fleur's body and shaking her gently, "Come on, Fleur. Wake up."

But Fleur didn't seem to notice his soft entreaties and lay there unresponsive, her chest rising and falling somewhat shallowly as she breathed.

"_Enervate_. _Enervate_, god damn it!" Bill said, his voice nearly cracking as the spell didn't have any effect at all.

A soft thud against the side of his hand made him pause. The pendulum with the phial attached at its tip. Irritably, he backhanded the swinging pendulum so hard that the chain broke and the phial shattered loudly against the nearby cave wall.

"_Merde_!" exclaimed Gabrielle as the tent flap opened and a tall man in a suit stepped out, the strange, pistol-like device grasped in his hand.

"You will want to step away from my Veela. You and your invisible friend over there," the man said nastily, stroking his impressively bushy black moustache, "My Spellblaster here is quite dangerous and I must confess that it does have a bit of a hair-trigger."

"Your V-?!" Bill replied, outraged, standing to his full height in front of Fleur, "She is a _person_! She is my _wife_!"

The man snorted, "Not anymore. I have captured her, and by the international guidelines of Fair Magical Creature Gamesmanship, she is mine to do with as I wish."

"We are not full Veela!" shouted Gabrielle, her Disillusionment charm dropping so that she was fully visible once more.

"What's this?" the man said excitedly, his blue eyes glittering icily, "Another one? Why, it's my lucky day, then, isn't it? I was going to let you live if you left immediately, but now that I know there's another, I will require the set. Too bad. But what's mine is mine, and God help anyone who tries to take it from me."

He turned his weapon on Bill and pulled the trigger.

Bill tried to block the blast, but suddenly a light so bright that it burned his eyes filled the cave with a sound like chanting women's voices, and he was thrown backwards against the ground. He squinted and his body was pushed back against floor by a force like wind, though it made no sense. They were underground. There was no wind underground.

_Or was there?_

He blinked rapidly, wondering briefly if he was dead, but the aching in his head and arms and legs and lower back told him that he was not.

Someone was standing in front of him. Someone who glowed as though her body was made of light.

_Fleur…_

"Fl...e...ur…" he called weakly, holding out his hand before it became too heavy and he dropped it down to his side.

He couldn't lose her. No no no no no no.

But the darkness was rising up to meet him and he could feel his head throbbing painfully as something warm and wet dripped down over his right ear.

* * *

Fleur could hear the Veela's song, and she rolled over, trying to ignore it.

_Only ten more minutes. Just ten more minutes of sleep._

"_Come on, then, and sing with us_" they sang to her in the Veela mother tongue, which was not French and was not English, but she understood it just the same, just as she understood the feeling of the magic that pulsed beneath her skin and through her heart.

Fleur blinked rapidly with bewilderment as she opened her eyes. She was surrounded by her ancestors, proud women who stood to welcome her into their ranks, who were more than women, who were powerful warriors, who flew on metallic wings that cut down their enemies, whose only crime was their beauty and their hunger.

_But do we bemoan the death of the cow when we savor the steak?_

She rose and looked down, noticing at once the light that emanated from her body. She was nude in this place outside of places, yet she felt no shame or fear in her condition. Her skin was nearly opaque and she felt a sense of pride swell in her belly as she watched the silvery veins of magic running through her body like infinite tattoos marking her power.

"Come, my child," a tall Veela wearing a delicately engraved silver headpiece said to her, and Fleur knew at once that she was kin, the original Veela whose line she was born of, a proud and beautiful being of light and power.

Two other Veela silently helped her into a dress of glittering mithril, buttoning up the back until she was fully covered with the radiant material. It did not constrict her movement, instead it felt like an extension of her body and she wondered at its divine softness.

"You are so special, my little one," the tall Veela crooned, her voice a song though she didn't seem to be singing, "So many of those who share our blood are forced to marry, pushed into the slavery of matrimony to men who _want_ us but do not _know_ us. Only one pure of heart and mind can see us without blindly desiring to possess us like livestock to be owned and bred. It is the Veela's curse, you see. It is only for those who truly wish to know us that benefit from our beauty. Those who cannot be bothered and behave like beasts themselves deserve the beast they get."

"I...I don't…" Fleur looked up at the beauty before her and wondered at how she could see her _sister...herself...her mother...her grandmother _in those eyes, that face.

"The American wants a monster, so give him the monster," the tall Veela said softly as she placed a soft hand on Fleur's shoulder, her grin widening to an almost impossibly inhuman width, and Fleur could see the serrated rows of teeth behind her perfect scarlet lips.

"How do I get back to him? My Bill, my love?" Fleur said, a tear of light trailing down her face.

"Be strong, little one," the tall Veela sang softly in reply, "Go to him now. Protect him, for he is your _heart_."

Fleur felt the voices of the Veela rise in pitch and volume until it was nearly a roar.

"My husband too, was pure of heart. You have chosen well, for a life filled with love is the only thing that matters in this world," the tall Veela sang, her voice merging with the others as Fleur felt heat and light pour from her back, and she was lifted upward on strong, wide bronze feathered wings.

_Go to him._

Fleur's eyes snapped open and she felt her body burst and overflow with same ethereal light as in her dream. The bronze feathers sprouted across her chest and back like armor, and her hair shifted and sprouted into silver feathers until her face was covered with what seemed to be a jagged metallic war helmet. The wings, too, burst from her back just as they had in the dream. There was no pain, only heat and light as they broke free into the fetid air of the cave and she could feel the song of the Veela pouring from her very soul, through her veins, filling the room with the echoes of her ancestry as she opened her mouth and began to sing.

She _was_ the wind.

She moved so quickly that no one could see her, and her song poured from her like a shockwave, canceling the magic in the space as she stood in front of the man she loved and refused to let him be taken from her again. The lethal spell fell to the earth and was absorbed by the stone as the American man in his impeccable suit cursed and pressed the trigger over and over with impotent rage.

Reaching behind her ear, Fleur plucked a silver feather and threw it like a dagger at the man. It shattered his Spellblaster and he grasped his hand and screamed as the metal bit into his skin and his blood hit the stone floor with a loud, wet slapping noise. Fleur opened her mouth once more and sang. The crackle of wild magic filled the air and she moved her hands as though she were weaving something between her fingers. A ball of silver light grew and twisted under her fingers, gathering size until it was nearly as large as Fleur herself.

"You want a Veela, you swine?" she bellowed in her best English, her voice cold as ice, for she wanted to be certain that he could understand her, "Be careful what you wish for. You may just get it!"

The ball of light seemed to flame brighter as it lifted off of her hand and sped towards him as though it had a mind of its own. At first, the man tried to run, but there was nowhere to go. It was then that he fell to his knees and looked into Fleur's eyes, pleading and looking for mercy.

He found none.

The ball engulfed his body and he seemed to shrink and glow for a moment before a loud CRACK filled the cave and he disappeared altogether, cutting his screams off abruptly.

"Ma sœur bien-aimée!" Gabrielle cried, running to her fierce, glowing sister with tears in her eyes, "I étais tellement inquiète pour toi!"

They threw their arms around one another, and as Fleur suppressed the urge to ask her sister why she was in this place, she could feel the metallic feathers sliding back into her body, the wings disappearing as though they had never been there. As Gabrielle pulled away, Fleur gasped and pointed.

Gabrielle had taken some of the glow from her sister and both girls pulsed with silver light.

In the silence and darkness that followed, this was quite useful, and Gabrielle relit the torches with her wand while Fleur turned and tended to Bill, who was unconscious but other than the small cut on the right side of his forehead, he seemed all right. And something told her what she needed to do next. Fleur bent down and kissed him, the bioluminescent glow of her lips pressing into his skin and spreading through his body until it pulsed from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. Both of them seemed to glow together for a moment and then the light dimmed once again until the only light in the cave came from the sputtering torches. When Fleur opened her eyes, she noticed that the small cut had disappeared, even though Bill's cursed scars still stood out as they had before.

"Unghhhh," Bill groaned, his hand going to his forehead as he sat up and squinted with bewilderment, "I thought I saw..._FLEUR_!"

He practically tackled his wife around her waist and she giggled as she wrapped her arms around him tightly.

"Where is he? Did he hurt you? I'll-" Bill was silenced by a slightly glowing finger placed on his lips.

"I think that American has...how you say...bitten off the more than he can chew," Fleur said triumphantly and Bill was more thankful than ever to have such a formidable woman by his side.

They turned to see Gabrielle kneeling gently next to Tali, who still lay immobile across the rock. She undid the vocal paralysis spell first and then used her wand to create a focused beam of power and sliced very carefully through the metal servant's collar around Tali's neck. Finally, she removed the Total Body Bind and stepped back to a respectful distance to give the raven-woman some space.

Tali yelped and immediately shifted into her massive raven form. She flew up to the ceiling and grasped at a stalactite, looking down at all of them with guarded eyes.

"Eet is...okay," Gabrielle said slowly, tucking her wand into a small leather sheath that she kept attached to her forearm, "You are...libéré…._free_."

The raven flew down and landed a short distance away, shifting back into human form in one fluid motion. With a puzzled look, Tali grasped the line of somewhat lighter skin where her collar used to be.

"Why...why would you do this?" she said carefully, "After all I have done to you?"

"You were not acting of your own volition," Bill said as he stood up with a groan, "If I am not mistaken, that is a Command Collar. Goblin-made for the American Wizarding World during the Revolutionary War in exchange for safe passage and equal rights in the Americas."

Tali stared at her former mark of servitude and shook her head.

"I don't know what the damn thing is, I'm just glad it's off," she said, sneering at the collar, "I'm free. for the first time since I was a baby and my parents were killed by poachers...I'm free!"

Then she looked around nervously.

"Where...where is Bernie?" she asked in a frightened voice that made her sound like a child terrified of the closet monster.

"He is an issue no longer," Fleur said with a grin that was all Veela.

"Tali," said Bill kindly, "Do you have someone to...stay with?"

"You don't understand," Tali said, looking up at them with a fierce expression, "There are others. He has an entire menagerie under his sprawling manor in Georgia. His 'collection.' I have to go back. I have to free them."

Gabrielle looked horrified and turned to her sister, pulling Fleur aside.

After a hushed conversation, Fleur finally sighed and nodded her head, then they turned back to Tali and Bill, who both wore expressions of confusion.

"Gabrielle, my sister, wants to accompany you," Fleur said, "She is my flesh and blood, my sister...my bien-aimé, so if you harm her in any way…"

"I was frozen, not comatose!" Tali snapped, "I saw your big light display. How convenient that you don't have horns or taloned feet that stick around when you go all human-y. Believe it or not, but most people think I look weird, even though I'm better at speaking human than most of the others."

"We are only _part_ Veela," Fleur shot back, "Which your American would have known if he had only spent a minute to listen!"

"What can I say?" Tali replied with a shrug, "In America, time is money and Mr. Magnificent Mustache Man didn't care enough to vet out his source. We were just told that a Veela would be here in the Parisian countryside, and that since Veela have hidden their existence so well that many debate over whether they still even exist, he jumped at the possibility.

"If you don't mind me asking, exactly _what_ species are you?" Bill asked.

"_Corvus-sapien Africanus_," Tali replied as though she were reciting from a book, "That's what the information card says on my "habitat" at home. Don't be fooled by the pretty words, though. It's a _cage_. I'm what is referred to by the average person as a Ravenborn. We're a subset of harpies that mostly thrive on the Ivory Coast. _Boss_ didn't realize I'd taught myself to read. He thought I was too stupid. Well, he underestimated _you_ and you can see how that turned out. I guess he was worried about bringing his normal entourage of big burly hunters because of the particular effect that the Veela is known to have on men."

Tali threw back her head and laughed, the thick, smoky sound of her raven form evident in the sound of her voice.

"I can...go?" Gabrielle said slowly, trying to pronounce the English as best she could.

"Well, as I always say, the more the merrier," Tali replied with a grin, and Gabrielle seemed to sparkle slightly, letting out a shriek of excitement.

Fleur shot a knowing look at Bill.

"Someone is quite bitten," she said with a smirk.

Bill looked at her confusedly for a second.

"Do you mean..._smitten_?" he asked.

Fleur blushed.

"You _know_ what I mean!" she said, slapping him playfully on the arm.

Tali went into the tent and brought out a large backpack full of supplies.

"Looks like the wards and stuff he put on this to keep me from getting at it have dropped," Tali said with a wicked grin, "Now I can go back!"

"Gabrielle must be back before the summer ends!" Fleur said, her hands on her hips, "You have the ability to do this, yes?"

"No sweat!" Tali said, pulling out a device with stones set inside, "This baby here coordinates where you are on the planet and pulls you to the destination you set in this here screen with the power of rune stones and ley lines and some such magic junk that would sound a whole lot more impressive if I actually knew how the damn thing worked."

She fiddled with it for a bit and then smirked triumphantly.

"There! All ready to go, princess?"

Gabrielle blushed and Fleur snickered as she gave her sister a knowing look. They hugged one last time before Gabrielle ran to Tali's side and they disappeared with a soft hum and a flash of light.

"Here you are, love," Bill said, handing Fleur the wand he'd found hidden in the long grass where she'd dropped it earlier when she'd been ambushed.

"_Merci_. I feel nearly naked without it," Fleur said, smiling gently until she nearly seemed to glow again.

Bill looked at her, his eyes full of such strong emotion that Fleur felt her heart pulse with her love for him.

"You are so, _so_ beautiful. You do know that, right?" Bill said, sliding a strand of hair behind Fleur's ear as he tipped her chin up and kissed her, "Your spirit is like the sun, Fleur. You burn your enemies to ash, yet everything under the gentle rays of your light flourishes. You saved me yet again. I do not yet know what I have done to deserve such an amazing woman in my life, but it only makes me more thankful that you find me worthy of you...even with..all of this."

"Well obviously it is because apparently my husband is a poet in addition to a Curse Breaker _incroyable_!" Fleur said with a playful smirk, pulling him back against her lips and refusing to let him up for air until both of them were breathless.

They both seemed to realize that something had passed between them that had drawn them even closer than before, and even though there was no overt difference that either Fleur or Bill could see, they could feel it in beating of their hearts and the coursing of their blood.

They were bonded for life, and nothing could take that from them, not language kerfluffles, not the irritating Molly Weasleys of the world, not even the murderous intent of a madman bent on controlling the world or immoral wealthy Americans hellbent on amassing collections of sentient beings in his own personal zoo.

As the torches flickered around them and the sound of dripping water and the faraway squeaking of what was most likely a colony of irritated bats filled the stale air of the cavern, both Fleur and Bill held one another tightly, their hearts beating as one as they imagined the many adventures ahead.

And they both agreed that, so far, this had been an _excellent_ honeymoon _indeed_.

**The End **

(let's give our honeymooners some privacy, eh?)

* * *

Author's Note: This was fun and different. I haven't written these characters before (and I have a very limited grasp on French, so thanks to Google Translate for helping me and also please blame Google for any language SNAFUs, lol).

Thanks again to Moka for giving me this prompt, and here's hoping that the rest of Bill and Fleur's honeymoon is excellent for more…._pleasant_ reasons….

As always, I look forward to your reviews, thoughts and questions.


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